


P is for Protect

by scarletmanuka



Series: V/V Alphabet Challenge [16]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka





	P is for Protect

The body lay crumpled in the gutter, twisted into a sad caricature of a person. Cherry and Igor moved around the poor soul, taking measurements and collecting evidence, before they would roll him into a body sized hessian sack and take him to the morgue. They studiously ignored the crowd that had gathered and were watching them like it was some kind of macabre street theatre.  

Vimes stood nearby, glaring at everyone and everything. There was something just not right about this. More not right than a man twisted into a pretzel shape - and not a regular old pretzel, but one of those fancy ones you got at Hogswatch. Something was screaming BIG CRIME at him, but he didn’t yet have all the pieces to be able to see what it was. But if he shuffled through the jigsaw box and pulled out the pieces from last week - the break in at the pet store, the flood of green liquid down Cable Street, and the bouquet of dead roses the Patrician had received - then there were almost enough corners and edge pieces to be able to see the overall picture. Not enough to be able to tell what it was, but enough to get the sense that it was a BIG CRIME.

There was a clatter of hooves and the crowd parted to allow the black carriage of the Patrician to pull up. Vimes groaned. This was the last thing he needed. He didn’t have any answers, and Vetinari would expect some, but how was he supposed to find the answers when he was being held up by explaining that he didn’t have any answers?

“Commander,” Vetinari greeted him as he ducked under the yellow bunting they’d put up to keep the crowd at bay. He was dressed in his black suit as usual but had left the Patrician’s robe back at the office. His cane was ever present, but Vimes suspected that that was more for show than anything. He knew for a fact the man still spent several nights a week climbing over rooftops and keeping an eye on the city. It seemed unlikely he’d need help walking when he could scale a wall in less time than it took Nobby to pocket the petty cash tin.

“Sir,” he replied. 

“Oh my,” Vetinari said, looking at the body in surprise. “I didn’t think humans were that flexible.”

“They’re not, sir.”

“Are you quite sure?” He cocked his head as his eyes followed the unnatural contours of the corpse.

“Yes, sir. On account of him being dead. From the...arrangement.”

“I know I can get both legs behind my head, but it’s the angle of the arms I don’t think I could manage.”

Vimes choked a little. “Pardon, sir?”

Vetinari waved a hand to dismiss his remark. “Oh, nothing, Commander. Just thinking out loud.” He tore his gaze from the victim and settled it on Vimes. “So, any ideas as yet?”

“A few, sir, but they’re in the early stages of development. Wouldn’t do much good to speculate on them as yet.”

A smile flickered briefly on the Patrician’s lips, and Vimes knew that Vetinari knew that he was pulling ideas out of his arse. “Quite so, Commander.”

Vimes’ attention was pulled to the crowd, where a shifty looking man was hanging around the edges of it. Being shifty looking was the default setting for most of the citizens in this area, but there was something about the hungry look on his face as he stared at the crime scene that sent up red flags. “Of course, I hope to have something soon,” he told the Patrician distractedly, his eyes never leaving the dodgy character, who was now moving around the edges of the crowd.

“I’m sure I’ll be the first to know when you do,” Vetinari said, his eyes following Vimes’ line of sight and now watching the man as well.

“Of course, sir.” Shifty was now on the far side of the street, where the crowd was smaller. He was moving casually, but he continued to throw looks at the body in the gutter. Vimes had unconsciously started to move slowly closer to the bunting, his feet on automatic.

“I am fully confident you’ll have some leads soon,” Vetinari said, his movements mimicking the Commander’s as they casually reduced the distance between themselves and the man.

“I don’t think it’ll be long at all, sir.” The man was now edging his way towards a side street, but jerked as he noticed the two of them watching him.

“Neither do I,” Vetinari replied as they watched Shifty scarper into the alley.

“Oi! Stop!” Vimes yelled, as he ducked under the bunting and chased after the man.

His feet pounded on the cobbles as he ran, and his mind was suddenly clear. This is where he came alive, when nothing but the chase mattered. Someone was running, which meant they had something to hide, and he would follow, and hunt them down. 

They wove through the backstreets of the city, zigzagging down alleyways, and small lanes, until they were far from the scene of the crime. Vimes slowed as he reached the entrance to a small, dark alleyway. In the last few streets they had crossed into the Shades, and even though times had changed, it still wasn’t safe for a copper to go there alone. He swore under his breath as he realised he’d not called for backup as he’d run. Though neither Cheery or Igor would have been able to keep pace with him, and the officers they’d brought for crowd control were green recruits. It was probably for the best that no one had come with him.

The alleyway was a dead end, and he moved slowly down it, knowing the suspect would have nowhere to go. He checked each doorway as he went, but they were all locked. There were several bins at the end of the lane, and he was almost certain that the man was hiding there.

“Look, why don’t you save yourself the trouble and come out now?” he called. “I’m between you and the exit. You can’t go anywhere.”

There was a laugh from the dark, and Shifty stepped out from behind one of the bins. “I can come out, Commander Vimes, but I don’t think you’re going to arrest me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you may be between me and the exit, but if you look you’ll see that my men are between the exit and  _ you _ .”

Vimes threw a look over his shoulder and swore. Three men had followed him into the alleyway and were indeed standing between him and the exit. He cast his eyes about, looking for anything he could use to separate the men. If he could fight them one on one then he had a chance, but these men didn’t play by the rules as set down by the Marquis of Fantailler. They would attack, all at once.

“I can see the reality of the situation is beginning to dawn on you, Commander. It really wasn’t a good idea to chase me alone.”

A shadow dropped from the roof and landed on top of the man. It stood, and with a wrench to the neck, dropped Shifty to the ground. “It would appear that he didn’t come alone,” Vetinari told the dead man at his feet.

Vimes nodded casually to the Patrician as he came to join him, but internally he was dancing with joy. Together they faced the three men. “What do you think of your chances now, boys?” he asked. “Want to take the both of us on?”

The men didn’t answer, but pulled assorted knives from about their persons and stepped forward. Vetinari pulled out two knives of his own, and offered one to Vimes, who shook his head. “No thanks. I don’t do knives.” 

There was no time for a reply as the men had closed the gap. With a flick of a hand, Vetinari sent one of his knives towards the largest of the men, and with a sickening thud it speared through his forehead and into his brain. The man dropped to the ground, dead. Vimes moved to one side as one of the men darted in towards him. Dodging the blade, he flicked a fist through his defences and landed a blow to the bridge of his nose. The man grunted, but spun and thrust the knife towards him again. Using his arm, he blocked the move, and landed another punch to the man’s face.

Beside him, Vetinari was stalking the last man. He had sunk into a low crouch, and as the man charged him with his knife, the assassin threw himself into a roll, tangling the man’s feet and bringing him crashing down. They rolled together, but Vetinari got the upper hand and pinned the man to the ground, bringing his own knife up and slicing it across the man’s throat. 

Vimes dodged another thrust of the knife, and darted in to snatch at the man’s shirt. Using his momentum, he spun and smashed the man against the wall. His head connected with the bricks, and he slumped to the ground, leaving a splash of colour above him. 

Breathing hard, Vimes turned to see if anyone was left standing. Vetinari was standing over one of the bodies, cleaning his blade on the dead man’s shirt. No one else was moving. 

Vetinari stood, resheathed his knife, and came to stand next to Vimes. They didn’t speak for a long moment, as they surveyed the carnage. 

“If you hadn’t have come, I’d be dead,” Vimes stated. “I thought I was alone.”

Vetinari shrugged. “I knew I wouldn’t keep up with you on the streets, so I followed the quickest way I knew - by rooftop.”

“But you didn't have to put yourself at risk for me. You could have been killed.” He swallowed hard as he realised the danger Vetinari had been in.

“Sir Samuel, you have appointed yourself as my bodyguard, and have saved my life on countless occasions. Perhaps it was my turn to protect you, don’t you think?”

“That’s not how this works. Protecting you is my job. I’m the one who keeps you safe.”

A soft look crossed over the Patrician’s face. “And I couldn’t do my job without you. You are necessary to the running of this city. The city needs you. The Watch needs you.” He paused, and then continued softly. “I need you.”

A heavy silence fell over them as they stared at each other, both running over the hidden meanings of their words. Then there was a shout from the end of the alleyway and Watchmen were streaming towards them, and the moment was gone.


End file.
